Pillow Talk
by darlingmess
Summary: On talking, small precious moments, sniping and all things quietly kind. drabble!series
1. Wake Up, Love

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Wake Up, Love_

Being tangled together in bed, Logan feels is something intimate. He likes this sense of purity and nakedness that comes with waking up with someone. He likes that he's the first person James sees, he likes waking him up and the lazy, burning morning kisses that come with it. Rolling onto his side he watches James through pillow narrowed eyes. He's sleeping peacefully, lying on his back, duvet high on his chest. The best, most endearing part is that James' hair is in a mess; tuffs flying out and standing up every-which way.

He doesn't want to wake him, but it's near noon and if they stay in bed any longer the whole day would have past and Logan has things he'd like to get done today. So he shakes him, fingers resting on James' shoulder. At James' loud snore and angry-irritated-sleepy swatting Logan smiles at the ceiling. He shakes him again. When James' flips him the bird Logan's chuckle is loud and his smile is wide.

"C'mon get up James." He runs the tip of his forefinger down the expanse of James' bare chest. "Up."

James' nose wrinkles delicately and he groans and shifts away. James pulls the covers over his head he says, his voice muffled by the duvet; "No." He drags a hand out, waving it in the air he gestures vaguely "Five... twenty minutes." When Logan jabs him sharply in the side he yelps, curses under his breath and says; "An hour. An hour and a half tops."

Rolling his eyes, Logan reaches down, and yanks the covers back, at James' growl he grins good naturedly. He expects it must be cold, dressed in only his blue and white stripy pyjamas pants. "Up now... I'll take you out for lunch?" It's a sad, desperate day when Logan has to resort to bribery.

James turns his head towards him, with his eyes still closed he raises an eyebrow, Logan smiles and runs a hand through James' hair, messing it further. "Any place I want?"

Barely suppressing his sigh Logan nods, "Yes. Now please. Up."

"Tell me a story."

"Oh for the love of god, man. Get. Up." Sitting up Logan runs a hand down his face, looking down at his t-shirt through sleep narrowed eyes. Head held in his hands he swings his legs out of bed. A warm arm snakes around his waist, keeping him in place. He shakes it off, at James' whine of displeasure he frowns briefly before continuing.

"Alright. Alright, I'm up." Coming up behind Logan James drapes his arms around his shoulders; "Give me a piggy back ride?"

Relenting and biting down a smile, Logan hooks his hands under James knees and carries him to the 2J family bathroom.

-END-


	2. Dusk

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Dusk_

They sit on the floor side by side, hands brushing and chests rising softly. The bedroom is dark and cosy, a single lamp on the desk opposite gives little light, and it throws forgiving shadows over the pair. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it beyond repair, funny, because he's normally very particular about his hair. James turns his head, watching Logan; the steady, even rise and fall of his chest. He doesn't quite know what to do now. So he just stares at the ceiling, smiling when Logan wraps a hand around his.

"Do you smell Pineapples?"

"No." Logan sounds amused, although he's trying to hide it. James can tell, glancing to his right he can see the small smile fighting at Logan's mouth. He runs finger tip at the corner of it, tracing a plump lower lip, wanting to kiss it red.

"Yeah right, you so can."

"If, James, I could smell pineapples, I'd tell you." He lets the tip of that finger dip into his mouth, nipping at it softly, before turning his head.

Grumbling with humour James frowns, "You better had." Laying his head on Logan's chest he really wants to grab the duvet from the bed, but he really cannot be assed. It's too far away, and besides it's such an effort to move. He's comfortable now. Feeling the steady rise of Logan's chest and listening to the rhythmic pumping of his heart.

-END-


	3. Rise

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Rise _

The sun turns the walls a pale orange and throws dark and comforting shadows across the room. James only knows this because he's got one eye open and his staring over Logan's shoulder, his calve hooked over the back of Logan's knee. As the seconds progress into minutes the clave he had so easily draped over Logan is dislodged when Logan presses his knee between James own. James has the sneaking suspicion that Logan is awake and alert, just laying very still and letting him do whatever. And James sort of likes the freedom and control being afforded him. Tearing his eyes from the opposite wall James looks at Logan instead. At his soft angled face and the slight barely there smile he's sporting. Looking rather dapper in his worn white t-shirt which is painted a sort of yellowish-orange made darker by the off white of the duvet.

When Logan lays his hand, heavy and warm, on James' hip James bites down on his smile. The stroking thumb weakens his try at indifference; he breaks into a grin before he can stop himself. He doesn't think he would, though. The thumb dips under his grey ink splattered t shirt, rubbing at a firm and soft and angular hip.

"Up." Logan says: voice gravely from sleep and eyes still closed.

"No," But James doesn't really mind, it's about nine in the morning and he wouldn't mind a lazy morning routine, of wandering hands, long _fun _showers and griping. He just does it to needle Logan, to push and prod as is custom, but in this new found, soft, flickering fingers sort of way.

"We're going to need to be up before Katie or Carlos." Logan snuggles in closer, clothed chests touching, to nip at James collar bone, soothing the light bite with a swipe of his tongue. James can't really complain, as long as he keeps doing _that_. "Do you really want them interrupting?" He licks a broad stripe up James' neck. With slowly curling toes and hands fisting into soft un-spiked, bed hair, James thinks he shakes his head and mouths 'No'.

Still they don't move.

-END-


	4. Crying

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Crying_

The living room glows with the soft bluish light from the television. James sits on the orange sofa, he's lounging on the junction where the two corners meet, his feet propped in Logan's lap. The frayed hem of his jeans has ridden up, exposing lightly haired shins. The fabric of Logan's jogging bottom rub softly against James' skin. He doesn't realise he's pressing into it until Logan's flicks the soft underside of his foot. He glances at Logan briefly, catching his eye and tilting his head in silent apology.

Turning his attention back to the screen he feels a watery frown tug at his lips. He glances down at Carlos and Kendall sitting in separate heaps on the floor; Carlos is 'watching' the movie too, inhaling the chocolate bar in his lap, his eyes keep flickering to the pile of comics at his side. And Kendall's not that much better, he's texting someone, judging by the dopey look on his face James guesses its Jo. And both of them are rude, with their eating and texting and not paying attention to the _greatest, most emotional_ film on the planet.

James doesn't quite realise he's sort of crying until he can taste salt on his tongue. He gasps silently, and scrubs at his traitorous eyes. When Logan starts rubbing his hands up and down James' feet is when he looks away from the screen and at the smirking face of Logan. He has his eyes trained on the TV screen, hands moving in an unrelenting, soothing motion.

"Such a pussy." The words are whispered and gently mocking. James feels when he digs his heel in _hard _to the flesh at Logan's thigh he is completely justified in doing so.

-END-

I've just realised that this is the first time Carlos or Kendall have made an actual appearance in a story of mine. Can't help but feel proud.


	5. Orange Peels

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Orange Peels_

Logan cooking is strange and wonderful all at once, James thinks. Logan doesn't cook much, he likes pizza and take-out and all manner of unhealthy foods and James' can't help but be proud of him for that. But when Mrs Knight is away the boys and Katie have to fend for themselves. So Logan is sent into the kitchenette, standing over the stove opening a pot lid, stirring, tasting, nodding to himself and then closing it. From his position, sitting legs crossed on the dinner table, James can barely make out his small smile in the fading light of the day.

As Logan goes over to the cupboard, James looks on, eyes following the ripple of muscle in his upper arm as Logan reaches up to get some herb or another, it's green so James is guessing thyme or rosemary or something equally pretentious sounding, but secretly yummy. Watching Logan wander back over to his chopping board as he gently places the glass containers on the counter top. James likes the sound of Logan chopping carrots over the sound of the radio. Something poppy and "Top 40"-ish is playing, James couldn't tell which song for the life of him.

Picking up the orange on sitting on the table beside him, James peels it absently, eyes still locked on Logan, when the flesh breaks and sticky wetness leaks out onto his finger and under his nail James laughs under his breath, laughing harder when Logan chucks the roll of paper towels at him. Offering him a docile smile as it unravels in the air, leaving a long trail which drifts to the floor.

"I hope you plan on cleaning that up." It's not clever or witty, but the situation doesn't call for brazen flirting and James feels like being frank -but perhaps what he just said was flirty, if only a little bit-. When all he gets from Logan is a raised eyebrow, he laughs, loudly and without reservation. He is not picking that up.

At the sound of Katie stirring from an ill advised nap, he snaps his mouth shut and stifles his laughter behind a hand, eyes wide and bright. Logan just shakes his head and finishes chopping the carrots. He's curious now; James jumps down from the table top and goes to stand around the breakfast counter back pressing against the sparkling granite. Logan brings the carrots over to the stove, and drops them slowly into the pot, stirring it around he nods to himself; dips a spoon in and sips at the glistening liquid, James really likes Logan's soup. But he doesn't quite know why Logan chops a quarter of a clove of garlic drops it into the soup and adds salt.

"You better not be ruining my soup."

"No, I wouldn't dare." Logan looks over his shoulder, looking all mischievous and sweet. And right now, James doesn't quite know what to do with himself. As Katie wanders into the kitchenette, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, James thinks she looks sweet and unassuming in her pyjamas. She's not a little girl (in the conventional sense of the term) anymore but sometimes, like now, she seems younger.

"Food done yet?" She asks; words made softer by her yawn.

James shakes his head and Logan doesn't say a thing. "Not quite. Give it about what? Five, ten minutes?" James sees Logan nod; he hasn't turned around he's still fiddling with the pot.

"Where are Kendall and Carlos?" She asks, her voice still soft and sleepy, it's only eight thirty in the evening. But then again, that's the problem with ill advised naps.

"Kendall thought this would be a perfect opportunity to go out with Jo. And Carlos is with Stephanie, which I think is sort of sweet, but I'd rather not go there." Logan adds: he opens the cupboard rummaging around for bowls and glasses and spoons.

Turning around, palms resting on the surface his little finger touching the steel of the sink, he says: "Go and watch some TV, Katie, we'll bring it over for you in a second."

And, suddenly James feels very grown up indeed, looking after children and being all together very domestic, in all honesty he doesn't know what to do with himself. At the touch of Logan's hand at the small of his back James somehow doesn't think he needs to.

Settling down, his back pressed to Logan's side, in front of the television James thinks he likes it, this quiet companionship, and the soft, roving fingers that dance around the skin at the hem of his shirt. He really likes it.

-END-

I have no idea whatsoever where this came from. I'm not all too sure that I like it, it just seems really domestic and sweet and familial, which I guess I like, but I don't know if it suits me. But I reckon all in all I like, but only this *thumb and forefinger* much.


	6. Technology is a Bad Thing

"Sneaky Picture" Ruhena was being a ninja.

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Technology is a Bad Thing_

Logan likes to take pictures, he likes to document things, the things that mean the most to him. Like that one time in the park; that other time by the pool; the one time at the drive-in-theatre; and the times when it's very quiet and (sometimes not) bright. So as James is flicking through the images on his laptop he is surprised to see so many pictures of himself. He's pulling faces at Carlos in the park, yawning by the pool, shoving a fist full of popcorn in his mouth at the drive-in-theatre and sleeping in the bright warm morning and brushing his teeth and scratching at his ass at dusk.

But what is most disconcerting -and quietly very sweet but mostly terrible- is that he looks fucking awful in each of these pictures. His hair is a mess and he's eating. He's _eating_. If that doesn't scream inopportune time to take photos James doesn't know what does. And god, does he look horrible, mouth stretched wide and teeth flashing, not to mention the bits of not swallowed food still in his mouth. James cannot help but feel wildly indignant, this flush rising up from the back of his neck, has nothing to do with the fact that most of this pictures are of him, and everything to do with the fact that he has been caught some of the more embarrassing situations; take scratching his ass for example.

When the door to his bedroom opens he turns in his chair. Schooling his features into a frown of displeasure, he thinks he should borrow Logan's raised eyebrow for good measure. At the sheepish and somewhat appeasing look on Logan's face James thinks he's doing a good job of looking disapproving. But, now all they are doing is looking, gazes unwavering and slowly becoming soft. Shaking his head, James strengthens his resolve; he has every right to be both insulted and flattered, but mostly insulted, at the same time.

Pointing to the laptop James asks, his voice uncompromising, "And, what do you call this?" He stands, tapping his foot, "Hmm?"

Logan has the nerve to look part embarrassed, part bashful, part proud. "That my friend, is a laptop, this wondrous invention where-"

"I know what _this_" James gestures somewhat manically at the laptop, "is. What I want to know is what is on it. And why it's there."

Logan doesn't have a wry comeback and James cannot help but feel pleased with himself, serves him right, sneaky bastard.

"Still waiting." Again, James taps his foot, just for good measure.

Looking down, Logan mumbles, "They're just pictures, Jamie." He looks up from under his eyelashes, "No harm in that." He smiles, small and soft.

Still looking determinedly put out, James frowns, and flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "Yes, yes there's harm in that, especially when you've got such horrible, _horrible _photos of me."

Apparently growing daring Logan takes a step towards James, emboldened by James' cautious stillness. As he draws closer James folds his arms, not caring that he's crinkling his black t-shirt. Logan draws closers, pressing into James' personal space, James doesn't really mind, but he cannot help but think he should. Logan rests his hands on James' forearms, fingers curling and tugging them free. He steps closer press himself flush against James, he pulls James' hands around to rest on his hips. Not really thinking James slides fingers into the belt loops and holds on.

"How about I fix that?" He looks James in the eye, "I'll take a couple of pictures of you now." Nodding to himself he seems to like this plan, "And you get to pick how you look and where I take them. You get to decide everything, James."

The worst part is how eager Logan actually looks, like he's very much looking forward to this. And, James, he doesn't have the heart to refuse, not that he would, not when Logan has this look of almost child-like glee and excitement. Without thinking James pulls him in tighter, fitting their hips together. In this very moment he wants to hug Logan, just hug and smile. But he knows Logan better than that, whilst touching is okay, prolonged touching is not something he's overly comfortable with. James doesn't really mind, especially not when Logan is carding fingers through his hair and tugging him down into a kiss; all shared breath and smiles and lazy tongues.

When they break apart James is in a better mood than he was before. He rests his forehead against Logan's and he smiles. He nods; brushing a finger along the exposed skin at Logan's hip, where his shirt had ridden up.

"Alright then, as long as I look good, then that's fine," he thinks he whispered it, but he can't be sure. When Logan's fingers drop to his nape, James is very sure that Logan heard.

Logan peels away, running fingers down to smooth out James' shirt, he lingers at his shoulders. He turns and goes out of the room, when he returns he has a black camera bag, strap slung over his shoulder. He links their fingers together briefly, tugging and letting go when James follows. As they leave the apartment James realises he has no idea where they are heading, but for reasons beyond him he doesn't mind.

-END-

Teehee, again, no idea where this came from, but yeah, it started off being about coffee... But yeah, I don't know how to make non-instant coffee, the kind of stuff that really sophisticated people drink, I'll stick to tea, mate. But yeah, no idea where, but seriously I love taking pictures of people when they're eating. Most of my holiday pictures are of my family eating. (I got a very nice picture of my Mum shoving a spoonful of cake into her mouth. Lushtimes.)


	7. Contact

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Contact_

Logan has never been a touchy person, James knows this and he accepts it, just like how he accepts the quirks, sarcasm and quick fleeting smiles. But most of James accepts and secretly likes, how Logan doesn't really touch him until their alone (or no one is looking) and when their naked. It's a funny thing, in a strange abstract sort of way, how Logan doesn't really linger in displays of affection. He'll give a comforting shoulder squeeze and a quick hug, but nothing more than that.

It's stupidly endearing how Logan is reluctant to touch. But in private, he's different; Logan will touch James, hands wafting and fingers brushing, mouth peppering kisses and lingering. James really likes it. When their naked and tangled is when Logan touches the most, hands drifting everywhere and fingers sweeping across bare flesh.

As they lay in bed, legs intertwined bare feet rubbing against socked, James looks at Logan, the window is open and there is a cool breeze that makes the blinds flutter and Logan snuggle closer. James drops a kiss to the top of his head, wanting to slip his fingers under Logan's knit sweater, just to feel his warm skin and make him shiver. Logan's laptop sits on the bed covers forgotten and humming quietly. All things considered James likes that he only gets to see this side of Logan. He feels privileged and proud; proud that Logan can share this with him, proud that he can share this with Logan. This quieter, softer side of himself, a side that rarely others get to see, is always there with Logan.

Its night by the time James looks out of his window. Stars are peaking out from a navy horizon and the moon hangs in the foreground, looking regal and approving. From this position, sitting side by side, legs flush and fingers resting in his lap, their fingers are hidden by soft, curving shadows; head resting against the wooden headboard, James thinks it looks very pretty.

"Hey, Logan?" James asks breaking this comfortable, sweet silence.

When Logan hums, James smiles, continuing, "Are we ever going to watch that film?" He gestures to the laptop near Logan's bare feet.

"Eventually." But he relents stretching over to grab at the laptop he places it in James' lap, before he goes to collect a stack of DVDs from the desk. Returning to the bed Logan sits in front of James and on his knees, "Alright, so we've got a choice of three genres: comedy, sci-fi and action." He holds up three DVDs, fanning them out and angling them into the minimal light.

James looks over the covers, he reaches toward one, huffing indignantly when Logan pulls away from him, shaking his head and frowning. He looks James square in the eye throwing the DVD over his shoulder, it lands somewhere near the bookshelf with a clatter. As James reaches for the other DVD Logan makes an unhappy noise at the back of his throat. He places that DVD down too, in a far less dramatic fashion.

He glances at the remaining DVD. "Oh look, it's Star Wars." He pauses, his eyes flickering to James, "I knew you had good taste." Logan settles down, setting up the media player he props the laptop on a few pillows.

"You know you're going to have to explain to me what's going on." James sounds petulant but he doesn't really mind, he knows Logan sort of likes it. He feels Logan sling his legs in his lap and grab his fingers, tugging lightly at them and smiling to himself as the adverts play, James doesn't mind, he pulls at the hem of Logan's jeans.

It dawns on James that Logan doesn't need to be a tactile person, because he'll always be quietly companionable and James likes it that way.

-END-

Just for the record I think Star Wars is stupid. _And _a waste of time, time that could be better spent watching paint dry. (Oh the sarcasm. *winks*)


	8. We Be Ninjas

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_We Be Ninjas_

Sitting by the pool James looks out from above his sunglasses, the world no longer tinted dark, he surveys the people, those in the pool and those lounging, not dissimilar to him. He sees The Jennifers: sat around a wooden table looking haughty and cruel drinking over a script. He sees Kendall and Jo: looking sickeningly sweet by the poolside, feet dipped in and fingers intertwined, sharing secret smiles. He sees Camille, funnily enough in a bikini; lying in a deck chair magazine forgotten in a heap on the floor, she's probably sleeping. He sees Katie, he doesn't quite know what she's doing, and he thinks that's a topic best left unexplored.

What he doesn't see is Logan. Or Carlos for that matter. And that bothers him more than he's willing to admit. The worst part is he knows that Carlos and Logan are a more destructive pairing, this sensible and calm Logan that James knows and cares for is replaced by, an admittedly adorable, twit. A giddy, childish twit and if James weren't too busy rolling his eyes and tutting, he'd have to jump him. Because a childish and excited Logan is one of the best kinds.

So feigning disinterest James continues to survey the pool, searching in the places he skimmed over. He stretches out on his deck chair, muscles rippling, and back arching. Closing his eyes he sighs, pointedly ignoring Buddha Bob when he scoffs, and mumbles about overly vain teenagers. James doesn't mind. But what he does mind is; not knowing where the fuck Logan is.

In a completely not strange, or stalker or all together 'needs medical assistance' type way.

At the rustling at the bushes James' eyes flicker over to it, he narrows them searching through the foliage. When he sees a flash of black he stands, flicking his hair into place. Walking over, he stops short, half smiling, half sighing when he sees Logan crouching down behind the bushes, hands gripping tightly at the brick hedging, nails digging into the dirt, funny, Logan doesn't seem to notice. Logan leans in whispering animatedly to Carlos, who for his part nods and chuckles every so often.

When he walks within ear shot, he doesn't know whether to smile or to hug him. Now he can see clearly they're looking into the lobby, at Bitters who is guarding a chocolate cake. He peeks over their shoulders on the ground is a napkin with red crayon squiggle, James supposes it's meant to be a diagram. All diagrams look the same. James catches glimpses of the conversation, something about; 'Now' and 'Patience is a virtue' and 'Just wait a fucking minute'.

He coughs pointedly and at Carlos' grunt and Logan's jump he'd say he did a pretty good job of scaring them.

Rocking back on his heels James asks in a sing-song voice; "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Scanning the area Logan beckons him down, James grimaces bare knees resting on the dry scratchy tiles. Logan cups his chin in-between two fingers directing him to the lobby, pointing at the cake. It's chocolate and three tiers and has icing, James can sort of see the fixation now, well at least for Carlos, and it doesn't seem something Logan would be overly interested in. But then James realises, it doesn't matter because it's some strange sort of bonding exercise between the two. And who is James to question that.

When James begins to ask something he feels Logan's forefinger press against his mouth, shushing him. James is very indignant, not only because he's being shushed but also Logan has dirt under his nails and that's disgusting because he can sort of taste it. Not nice, not nice at all.

James stands abruptly, his back is starting to hurt and his knee stings and he needs to brush his teeth, or something. Logan barely looks up, just glances once and shoos him away, pushing at his thigh, hand grazing the waist band of James' shorts. James stumbles and hopes no one saw that. He huffs loudly and taps his foot.

"Seriously James, we be _ninjas_." He pauses, looking fondly exasperated. "So either you shut up and stay or be noisy and scat."

Carlos chimes in, "Yeah James." Eyes softening and a small smile flitting across his lips; "Well save you some cake!"

"Oh, you better." James points, looking stern and authoritative, well as best he can manage, he backs away, biting down a smile at Logan's wink, he sinks back into his deck chair and waits for his cake. It had better be a big ass slice.

-END-


	9. Sweat

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Sweat _

They lay sweaty and tangled in the sheets. James sighs, breathing still erratic and fierce, he pillows his head on Logan's chest. The speed of Logan's heart beat calming him, if only slightly. The soft, rapid rising of Logan's chest makes James lean in closer, ear flush against heated sweat sticky flesh. If he could think beyond Logan he'd be a little bit grossed out right now. But for the time being he isn't and he likes that. That, as well as the peace that comes with lying with Logan. All quiet and cocooned.

A warm, heavy hand comes to lie on his shoulder, fingers brushing against the skin at James' nape. He smiles and leans into the caress, other than that he's still and malleable. When Logan trails the tips of his fingers into the soft hairs littering James' nape, he smiles and presses a soft kiss to Logan's chest. James pulls a hand free from the covers and rests it on Logan's upper arm, fingers curling and tracing patterns on the warm, firm flesh.

The warm, amber light from the lamp on the nightstand, throws arching and soft shadows across the room. James looks into the distance, vision swaying as he fights to stay awake. He's tired and sated; the feel of Logan's bare flesh, the sound of even, solid breathing lulls him. He drags his hand higher blunt nails dragging on two day old stubble. Hitching it even higher James makes out the corner of Logan's eye, as Logan hums in warning James pulls it away, pressing a kiss to Logan chest once more, an apology. He stops when he reaches Logan hair, the gel gone; now it is soft and short, James likes it.

"You need a shave," it's not a demand or a question, just an observation. It's an observation which Logan hears and ignores with a grunt. Logan draws his hand down the expanse of James back to grip at the small of James' back and press softly, angling hips together, and to push his leg between James'.

"Maybe. I'll probably end up shaving tomorrow." He sounds sleepy, his voice thick and gravelly, "Better yet, maybe I should grow a beard?"

James feels he is completely justified in digging his elbow in Logan's side, Logan indignant yelp oddly satisfying. "You will do no such thing."

Grumbling, Logan rubs awkwardly at his side, batting his hand away James rubs, finger moving in slow circles. "Stop being such a baby."

Logan just huffs loudly, and James smiles secretly to himself, snuggling closer.

-END-


	10. Making a Spectacle of Yourself

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Making a Spectacle of Yourself_

As they tumble into the apartment, hands fisting in hair and fingers grasping at clothes and lips roving over bare patches of skin. They share breaths, hands gripping at belt loops and palms brushing at hips, they don't look where they're going. They're too caught up in rapid tongues and shallow thrusting hips. Logan runs his mouth along James' jaw, sucking slightly, at James' whine he smiles, nipping at the flesh. James winds jumpy fingers into Logan's hair, tugging and groaning at the removal of contact. He follows for more, kissing blindly until he meets Logan's lips soft and vaguely wet.

James hits his head against the door frame, the thud loud to his own ears. He curses, pulling away from Logan; he hits his head again and bites his tongue, hard. He pushes at Logan slightly, grumbling and tasting blood. He wants to spit, he doesn't though. Instead he pushes Logan of him, and rushes to the bathroom. Spitting into the sink, James tilts his head; he stares at the deep red and its contrast against the porcelain. He turns the faucet on, watching it slide away before shutting it off.

"Are you okay?" Logan's leaning against the door frame, for all his casual grace his eyes show how concerned he is.

James just frowns, sticks his tongue out and peers at it in the mirror; if he squints he can make out the puncture marks. He wants to pout and act every bit as petulant as he feels, but he's got more balls than that. He doesn't notice, until he feels Logan's warm hand at the small of his back; that Logan is stood behind him. He's not looking in the mirror, eyes trained on where his hand is; rubbing soothing circles. Logan presses his lips to a cloth covered shoulder. James tries not to shiver.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, words muffled.

Nodding James turns, back pressing into the sink, Logan's hand rests low on his stomach, the tips of his little finger resting on the waistband of his jeans, the other trapping James against the sink, closing him in. James smiles softly, fitting their hips together and pushes slightly, smiling secretly when Logan groans.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he pauses, runs a hand up Logan's neck, fingers resting in the hair at his nape. "Fucking hurt though."

"I can imagine, you did run off." Logan frowns, drifts his fingers to James' hip thumb rubbing in absent minded circles.

James cocks his head, looking out of the bathroom and into the kitchen seeing the rhythmic dripping of the faucet, and watching how the night sky reflects on the door of the oven. Surging forward James presses his lips to Logan's, liking and swallowing the surprised squeak and luxuriating in the hand gripping his hip and the other hand linking their fingers together.

-END-

Ha! I lure you in with the promise of porn. But no! No porn for you. *smiles sweetly* Hope you liked.


	11. Cups of Coffee

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Cups of Coffee_

James isn't that big a fan of coffee. He will drink it, and can admit that it smells nice, in an all encompassing, time consuming way. Looking around James takes in his surroundings, the coffee shop is dark, and the tables mismatched and overly ornate, the chairs are no better. James supposes it's supposed to look artsy and innovative, in a strange, abstract way he supposes it does. The shop itself is packed, there's a low hum of conversation under the rumble of the coffee machines. Looking down at the table James notes a menu, apparently they do meals too.

Out of the corner of his eyes James notices the bathroom door swing open, glancing to his right James looks, it's not Logan. He's been in there for three minutes it begs the question how long does it take to piss. Not that James times himself or anything.

He drums his fingers on his mug, blunt nails scraping and finger tips burning on the ceramic. James bounces his leg under the table; he hits it on the countertop, knee colliding with something soft and wet feeling. He peels it down and doesn't dare look, he huffs a few times, flicks his bangs into place and huffs again. He's starting to get the tiniest bit impatient. His eyes roam, and he finds Logan standing at the sales counter, back to him, Logan bends at the hip slightly pointing at some cake or another. James isn't distracted by the way Logan's jeans pull taut at his ass, not at all.

He smiles to himself, mindful of the woman at the opposite side of the shop, near the window where the cloudy sunlight pushes through making her grey curls shine, and the strange looks she's been shooting him. It's not like he's been pulling faces into his coffee or anything. His eyes drift to the seat opposite him, where Logan's dark brown leather jacket lies hanging over the chair, the light from the hanging shade above them makes the creases darker and the smooth planes bright and shiny.

The sound of footsteps makes James look up. Logan looks precious carrying two plates, balancing them like his life depends on it. He's walking slowly, this look of complete concentration on his face. James sort of wants to startle him for the sake of it, but then he notes the generous slices of pie on them and thinks twice. When Logan eventually sits he smiles widely, looking pleased with himself, for all his grace and finesse on the ice, he's fumbling and awkward everywhere else. It's a shame really, James reasons offhandedly.

What really catches James' attention is the pie, steam is wafting from them and they smell heady and sweet, the granulated Demerara sugar glitters and the pastry is flaky and moist looking. When Logan slides a plate towards James he barely mumbles his thanks glancing up at Logan briefly and pointedly ignoring his knowing smirk.

"Careful it's hot," the words are hushed and pleasant, if not sweetly condescending; the accompanying smile is welcome and kindly.

"I'm not a child, Logan." At this James licks his stirring spoon, noting the flicker of interest in Logan's gaze and storing it for later, and stabs it into the pie delighting in the soft crunch it makes. Shoving the piece into his mouth he wishes he listened, because fuck him, it's hot and the little chunks of apple don't help. But, over the burning sensation from his tongue, James has to admit the pie is really quite good. At Logan's chuckle James swallows, kicks him under the table and doesn't meet his eyes.

"Do you want some water or something?" Logan is amused; James can hear it in his voice, low and fondly mocking.

"Fuck you." There's no bite.

Logan just laughs, head tilted and voice ringing out in the shop, and over his shoulder James notices the woman at the window looking over; curious. He's sure there is a slight smile playing at her lips. He's not sure, but he smiles anyway, just to be polite. James' gaze flickers back to Logan when he feels a warm knee press against his under the table. Offering a small, quietly adoring, smile Logan hooks his ankle around James'.

Picking up his mug, James raises it to his mouth, hiding his smile and pink tinged cheeks: "Your pie is going to get cold."

-END-


	12. Colourful Life rated T

Umm, *sheepish smile* for anyone whose interested, college is a time wasting bitch and now it's over, I haven't got much planned for the summer except writing. So, hopefully that's a good thing. (Proceed with caution, sexy(ish)times)

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Colourful Life (rated T or something)_

They sit under an oak tree; the sky is still a pale blue, clouds whisper along the horizon, the comforting heat from the setting sun warms both James and Logan. James watches the city scramble and run from his position between Logan's legs. He presses his back more firmly against Logan's front, luxuriating in the solid warmth and the cocoon of arms wrapping around him. He breaths deep, almost tasting the freshly cut grass and the woody scent Logan seems to carry. He burrows deeper.

James closes his eyes and leans back further, tugging Logan's hands closer around his waist, he smiles at the soft rumble of Logan shuddering sigh. Behind his eyelids colours dance and flitter. He blinks, eyes searching for the dimming sun, when he catches it, James smiles and stares un-blinking for a few moments. At the feel of Logan's lips at his nape James sags, head lolling forward, and fingers grasping at Logan's tugging and encouraging the contact.

"It's getting late." The words are whispered into his skin. James doesn't trust himself to speak instead he nods, not bothering to move.

When Logan's lips move James fights whimpering. He leans back, twisting his head around he places open mouthed kisses along Logan's jaw, lips dragging on the ever present stubble. James smiles secretly to himself; when Logan's mouth drops slightly open, and when he swallows deeply, pink tongue sweeping out to moisten his lips. James drops his hand down, fingers dancing up Logan's thigh, Logan whimpers pressing closer. James cannot help but feel wildly proud and protective. Like, there's this burning protective feeling, not unlike jealous lust, surging through him with each nip and ghosting kiss. It's like he feels proud of the emotions he stirs, and inanely jealous and protective of them, _he's _the only person allowed to do this.

The only person allowed to make Logan gasp and writhe. The only person allowed to make Logan pant and curse under his breath, the only person allowed to have thirsting, shaking fingers grasp at him: his side, his arm, his stomach. Only James fucking Diamond is allowed to make Logan Mitchell come apart at the seams.

This feeling of possessiveness takes him by surprise; it makes him falter in his ministrations. It makes James quake with excited unbridled lust, his blood hums with it. The best part is he likes it, he likes how he suddenly becomes ever more ardent and pressing, he likes how he moves to straddle Logan, how Logan's hand find his belt loops and hang on, and mostly, he likes the shallow thrusting of Logan's hips.

Pulling apart, James pants: "It's getting late." And it is the sun is only a fine yellow blot on the horizon and twinkling stars peak out of the fading purple-blue darkness.

Voice deepened and husky Logan replies, "Fuck that." He punctuates this statement with a kiss that leaves James breathless and rocking hips that make James shiver and tremble.

James want to agree, that yes they should 'fuck that' or each other, whichever is quickest. But they're in a public park and after everything has been done; Logan will be embarrassed and blushing and downright adorable, but embarrassed and twitchy. And, truth be told James thinks he would prefer the comfort of a bedroom for what he has in mind. So, he drags himself up, wincing at the tightness of his jeans, and beckons Logan to do the same. When he does, James presses him against the oak they were leaning against, and ducks his head to kiss his way down to Logan's collar bone, sucking and nipping.

With some reluctance he pulls away, dropping his hand to Logan crotch he presses his palm flat against it, whipping his hand away James, grips Logan's hand and tugs him out of the park and towards the car.

END

Hopefully this makes up for being lazy and *in petulant tones* college taking up all of my time. And, still no porn for you! *smiles sweetly*


	13. Rebellion in the Blood

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Rebellion in the Blood_

James is really, really confused. He's really, very confused. He cocks his head to the side; still it doesn't quite make sense. Briefly he contemplates rubbing his eyes or pinching himself, he doesn't though, far too childish and more importantly lame. Plus, he's fully coherent and awake, so the excuse of sleep is gone. So he stands there, in front of the living room couch, head still tilted in barely suppressed confusion. The TV is still on, and the moonlight filters in from the cracks in the blinds.

Logan, Carlos and Kendall are sleeping on the couch; Logan sprawled out on the corner, Kendall, rather awkward looking, slumped head lolling backwards resting on the back his Adam Apple bobbing with each swallow and smack of lips and Carlos laying on his front with his feet in Kendall's lap head pillowed in his arms. They make a very sweet picture, all open and bare.

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he sighs, smile widening. Shaking himself he gets a devious, _wicked _idea.

He tip toes closer, his socked feet quiet. He pauses to snicker to himself, basking in his glow of greatness. Just because, honestly he's amazing and everyone should know it, but alas, like many geniuses his contemporaries suppress him. He spares a put upon sigh and rushes to his bedroom.

Coming back out he pauses, camera in hand, to watch for any signs of wakefulness in his friends. The grin he sports is equal parts manic and gleeful. All things considered James does not believe that to be a good combination (all medical and criminal dramas show that that's the first sign of the crazies). He edges closer to the three. He drops the camera to the coffee table, cursing under his breath at the noise.

Quietly he shifts Logan's position so he's lying on his back, halting on when Logan blinks sleepily and flashes a quick smile at him, James' touch is even gentler after that. Next he moves Kendall, thankful that he's a heavy sleeper, until his head is placed in Logan's lap, reaching forward he pulls Logan's zipper down slowly, briefly he contemplates splashing a bit of water on Logan's boxers. He then places Kendall's hand under Logan's sweater and gently hooks Kendall's thumb on Logan's belly button, he tugs Kendall's hand a touch lower so his palm is pressing into the upper part of Logan's crotch. He then moves Carlos (sleeps like the fucking dead), unsure of what he should do with him. He smiles, large and crafty.

He undoes the tie on Kendall's jogging bottom and tugs them down, he pauses, grimacing slightly, before he tugs Kendall's boxers down also exposing part of his groin. He then shifts Carlos into an upright position before tugging on his arm and placing his hand down Kendall's underwear. Taking care he pulls off Carlos' shirt and stuffs Carlos' own hand down his shorts.

He cackles, biting his tongue.

When he's sure no one will wake he snatches his camera and takes a few photos; for future blackmail and teasing. He turns on his way to his room, pulling back his bed covers; James thinks he should get some sort of reward (or something) for a job well done.

END

Okay, so I know I'm not funny, but I feel I should at least try.


	14. Little Secrets

Okay so there's no explanation for this pitiful lack of updates or anything, but I do offer a big cuddle and a massive sorry for taking so long. *wobbles bottom lip* Also I offer pie and kisses and cuddles and all things yummy! So hopefully, I shall be forgiven and whatnot.

Here is a story! Please enjoy.

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Little Secrets_

James doesn't like to brag but he's pretty, fucking epic when it comes to romance. Well, that's not particularly true, he does like to let people know he's pretty fucking epic when it comes to romance. There is a difference, and until his dying day he shall retain that defence. The point being, James is really a big softy at heart. Well probably not as big a softy as Logan, but still he's quite gooey on the inside. That is trait he saves for Logan and the softer, gentler moments they share.

In all honestly, James feels no need for romance, he can get on just fine with gruff, silent words of kindness and affection and the occasional fumbled display Logan seems to favour.

It is dreadfully endearing though, how Logan claims not to be romantic by nature and yet everything he does seems like something Blake or Keats or Robinson would come over -or at the very least write about. Let no one say James doesn't listen when people babble on about... something or other, poetry or words, it all sorts of blurs together after a while. Like that one time Logan dragged James out to roof to watch the stars. It rained heavily and they still stayed out, kissing touching, learning the lines of each other. They woke up with colds the next morning, but neither cared. (Well technically they did care, but they didn't say so until they had still had the cold for two weeks and the sneezing and temperature were getting old.)

Still, James cannot help but feeling pleased when he takes the time to survey his work. The apartment is empty, not a small feet. He had to (read: attempt to) threaten Carlos (he ended up begging and promising to go comic book shopping with him), bribe Kendall; with the having to apartment to use for his date with Jo, and use his best pouty face on Mrs Knight and manhandle Katie. But all things considered it was a relatively painless process.

The apartment itself though, is magnificent, the blinds rolled up so the waning sunlight sweeps in, painting the room a soft, dull orange come gold. There are candles in little groups on the surface of the coffee and dining table. The pizza is heating in the oven and generally everything is good, there is a stack of DVDs on the table. Everything is pretty and nice and romantic, and James knows he looks fantastic. Dressed in snug fitting pale blue jeans and soft white collar shirt, the light blue and green pinstripes glow in the days fading light.

He sits on the sofa waiting, with uncharacteristic patience. When the door creaks open he flings an arm over the back and flashes his most charming grin, the one that makes Logan smile despite himself and makes his eyes shine just that little bit more. The sight that greets him, makes James frown, he doesn't bother to hide it. Logan looks awful, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair is in disarray, it still looks good though, just not as good as James left it this morning. Logan's expression isn't thunderous, just irritated and hassled.

James is up before he can really think about moving, he's in Logan's personal space and running hands over all the skin he can reach, his eyebrows, his cheeks, the soft jut of Logan's collar bone. He coos under his breath and drifts his lips along Logan's forehead.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

But surely the library cannot be _that _stressful, sure it's got dull and shit books and goodness forbid actual studying goes on in that accursed place. But yet, the library has Logan looking bent until point of breaking. Nice one. Still James just continues petting and slowly he drags Logan towards the sofa. He lays them down. With Logan comfortable with his head on James' chest, James cards his fingers through his hard and asks what happened.

"Nothing," Logan pressed the words into James' chest and sighs some of the tension leaving, "just tired, ran into Camille, went shopping." James is only mildly affronted at not being invited, he needs some more soap and hair gel.

Logan continues, fighting a yawn. "Then went back to finish, didn't realise how late it had gotten and look," he lights his head up, supporting himself of James' chest, it hurts, James doesn't say anything. Logan shoves his hand in James' face; his nails are a deep, sparkly blue with a single silver star penned in the corner of his thumbs. "She fucking gave a manicure. A _manicure_! What sort of cruel punishment is that?"

James fights not to laugh, but presented with the disgruntled kitten face Logan is pulling and the pure indignation in his voice, he can't help but let out a few chuckles. Logan pinches him. James frowns rubs his arm and tugs Logan back down. They sit in silence for a while, until the timer goes off on the oven. Logan looks at him for a few long seconds, and then looks around the room.

He whistles low, "Wow, you did this?" When James nods, Logan surges forward to kiss him, just a firm, dry press of lips. "Thank you."

He gets up to turn off the oven, take the pizza out and leave it to cool. He comes back and takes his place on James chest. He kisses him on the neck, lips ghosting down until he reaches James shirt covered chest, he presses another short kiss there. "Thank you so much."

It's funny because James doesn't think he'll ever get used to the strong feeling of accomplishment and rush of pleasure that phrase gives him, especially when Logan says it so ardently, he cannot help but feel special. So he doesn't say anything, he just nods and wraps his arms around Logan and holds him tighter. They can always reheat the pizza

END

So, that was a story... I hope you enjoyed reading it. And now, I was thinking of asking if anyone had any words or phrases or prompts, they'd like me to do? So if anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them. (Although I do have some custom drabbles I said I'd write, but still I'd love the suggestions.)

And I don't think I've said this yet, but thank you to everyone who has reviewed, or added as a favourite, or alerted. You all make my day. *blows kisses*


	15. Snuggle

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Snuggle _**(**_**Glee**_** prompt by oneforthehaters) **

Logan sits quite comfortably on the sofa, Camille and Jo on either side of him, they rest with their heads on his shoulders and hands resting on his chest, he has both his arms wrapped around them, the DVD player remote dangling from his loose grip. Camille leans forward to get the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table, she throws a leg along the couch and shifts until her back is resting along his side. She watches the screen intently. Jo waves her hand about, poking Camille in the arm, Camille passes the bowl, Jo offers a handful of popcorn to Logan, he leans down to eat out of her hand.

From his position on the dining table, James thinks they make a strange co-dependent little group. All wrapped up in each other, looking for the world like a cute little unit, which in some ways James supposes they are. What he doesn't understand is how they can be comfortable like that, Logan is like a furnace, and he bets the heat from the girls is making them all uncomfortably sticky and hot. Not that it isn't a cute image it is, of course it is. But still, the logistics of it make him wonder. But they seem comfortable so that's all that matters.

He turns his attention back to the stack of homework in front of him, he chances a peek at Kendall about to ask for help, but on second thought Kendall looks just as lost as him. Getting up from his seat at the dining table James goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, he brings one for Kendall, the glass clinks against the tabletop. Kendall looks up and smiles his thanks, he spits out the pen hanging from his mouth and leans up to stretch, he pushes back on the chair, lifting the two front legs up. James is very tempted to push him, so much so that his hands itch at his sides.

He looks back to the group over hearing Logan's gasps and affronted sighs, the girls don't sound much better. Kendall, for his part, just shakes his head and watches them too, a fond smile lighting at the corners of his lips. James wonders if his boredom is reason enough to go and join Carlos and Katie at the arcade.

"I hate this, I mean I trusted him! I trusted Jesse with Rachel's heart and look what he does!" It's nearly concerning Logan's love of that show and his startling protectiveness of its characters. But more so, what's concerning is the pure indignation in his tone. He looks mad, like this sort of barely controlled rage that rarely overcomes him, Jo rubs comforting circles into his chest, but that doesn't do the trick and for this James is pleased. Jo's doing it wrong she should be stroking fingers through his hair, or pressing kisses into his neck, James would tell her but whilst he loves Jo; no one gets to kiss Logan's neck but him.

Jo hums in agreement and burrows closer into Logan's side, she feeds him more popcorn whilst Camille watches on, her expression thunderous. James picks up his books he doesn't want to be around when she blows up. He thinks about calling Kendall to come with him, but he refrains because it would be a fun story to hear. On his way out he hears Camille's huff and he can almost feel her take a deep breath about to enter into a tirade.

"The fucking _nerve_!"

END

Hello, duckie! I hope you liked it, I know it's short but hopefully you still like it and I wasn't quite sure what you had in mind but hope it works/you like it. (*looks back* That was a very long sentence) And hi everyone! *waves and blows kisses* If anyone else has any prompts or fic ideas/stuff they'd like me to do, then by all means you can force me.


	16. Sugared Almonds

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Sugared Almonds_

Logan, James realises, likes sugared almonds. He doesn't like anything else which is sweet, no he's far too health conscious for that. He likes sugared almonds. This means he likes weddings; he likes the ceremony but when they first arrive in the reception is the part he likes the best. Sometimes there are little pretty coloured packets with the almonds inside. The look on his face is precious.

So when food shopping James comes across an industrial sized packet, nothing delicate or pretty about it, he drops it into the cart alongside Carlos' Twizzlers and Skittles, Kendall's chips, Katie's chocolate and Gustavo's hair removal cream –James refuses to question that one. At the check-out Mrs Knight smiles at him, something sweet and knowing. James blushes and looks to the ground.

The apartment is quiet when they get back; Mrs Knight goes to the kitchen area and unpacks, dropping a tin of tuna to the floor, James bends to get it, snapping back when he feels the brush of fingers against the flesh of his back where his shirt has ridden up. Logan smirks at him, mouth all devious and eyes dancing.

He leans in for a peck, "Hey, Jamie." He helps Mrs Knight unload the shopping, lining up the tins and the boxed goods. He stands in front of the larder for a time, making space and muttering in indignation when Mrs Knight jostles him into action, placing the food haphazardly and pointedly ignoring the attempt at organisation Logan had been attempting. When he grumbles she presses a hand to his cheek and laughs at him under her breath.

There is only one bag of groceries left by the time James pitches in, Mrs Knight begs off, telling them to finish unloading. James reaches to unpack it, he pulls out snack after snack, and he holds the chocolate in his hand loosely waving it around for Logan to take, but arms snake around his waist instead and a head rest on his back, in the space between his shoulder blades. He sags into it before he can help himself, the arms close tighter and a nose nuzzles the nape of his neck.

Whisper, "The fuck, Logan, Mrs K is just _there_." She is, sitting just on the sofa, legs on the cushions, and Carlos' pack of Twizzlers resting in her lap.

"She won't notice." The words are pressed into his skin, a kiss punctuating the end of Logan's sentence. James can't help the way he goes just a little bit boneless at that.

So he continues unpacking, placing the chocolate on the counter he pulls the items out, washing up liquid, chips, air freshener, sugared almonds, toothpaste, and dental floss. He doesn't notice until he turns around in Logan's embrace that he unpacked the sugared almonds. When he does, he can't help the smile that sweeps over his face, a little bit pleased, a little bit shy. He reaches back and holds them out for Logan's inspection, feeling oddly on display.

"Here." Let it not be said that James Diamond is not a slick bastard.

The smile he gets is worth the giddy unease coiling in the bottom of his stomach. The hands around his waist clench. Then Logan is kissing him and it's fantastic, like sugar cube bursting in your mouth fantastic, slow and heady and in that moment it's all he knows.

When they part, Mrs Knight be damned, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," comes from the couch, let it not be said that Mrs Knight is not a sneaky, nosey cow. (In the best manner possible, of course.)

-END-

So, hello.

Umm, I'm very lazy and to anyone who cares very sorry. *blows kisses* Also, I hope everyone is having a wonderful New Year so far, and is doing fabulous, lovely things.


	17. Dark Time

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Dark Time_

Logan, James notes, is a heavy sleeper.

The couch where they fell asleep is uncomfortable now; their position does not make it better. Limbs entangled and torsos at awkward angles. James sits up more fully, head resting against the back of the seat. He raises his hands above his head and grins when the bones crack. His stomach rumbles and he pokes Logan in the side.

Logan doesn't stir just bats at James hand and changes position his head now burrowed into James' stomach, he burrows deeper. James drops his hand to Logan's hair, fingers sliding through the soft strands; he plays with a tuft, shaping it into a spike. He pokes Logan once more, firmly in the cheek.

"Up you get, Logie." James doesn't expect a response. Logan sleeps deeper than Carlos, absently he wonders how he gets up in the morning. James pokes him again, finger lingering he runs it down the tip of Logan's nose, a sap move. He can't help himself, no one is here to judge him.

The remote is too far away to get without making Logan uncomfortable so James resigns himself to sitting quietly. Some weak sunlight punches out from behind the clouds. It looks like rain. If he's lucky maybe thunder, however unseasonable it may be. Kendall wanders out from his room, hair a mess and scratching at his stomach his sleep shorts ride low on his hips. Kendall smiles pretty and friendly, James watches as he goes to the fridge and pulls out the orange juice, taking a swig from the carton. When Kendall rummages around the cabinets fishing out two glasses James grimaces as Kendall pours the juice into them. But then again, they've all probably done worse than share drinks, back-wash or no.

He smiles gratefully when Kendall places a glass in his hand and another on the coffee table. Hides his grin behind his glass when Kendall picks up Logan's legs and places them in his lap, he has the remote in his hand. Turning the television on he turns it down low, switching channels until he finds some old early morning cartoons. Kendall giggles are quiet and sporadic.

Logan looses a yawn, one that racks his sides and tickles James ever so slightly, he twitches anyway. Kendall just laughs at him.

They watch cartoons on low volume until the sun shines just a little more and rain clouds darken the sky, rain pouring down.

END

Author's note:

Hello! *kisses and cuddles* Reviews are love. (cheers to everyone who reviewed so far.)


	18. Handholding

Standard Disclaimers Apply 

Pillow Talk

_Handholding_

The night is dark, the room is dark, the apartment is dark. The bed, however, is warm. Warm with shared body heat and the flush of bare skin. Skin so bare it feels electric, like exposed wires and faint pulsing blue light. James presses his face closer into Logan's neck, nosing at his collar bone. He doesn't mind the faint sheen of sweat, nor the rapid-fire pulse, in fact, it's soothing. The pulse strong and heady under his hand, the hand he places over Logan's chest. If Logan thinks it's a sap move, he doesn't seem to mind, not at all judging by the way he curls his fingers around James' and holds on. 

With their legs intertwined James lets his mind wander, and lets his breathing settle. His hair is damp at his temples and the clumps of strands which aren't damp stick out wildly, bent at odd angles and under, pressing into the soft, vulnerable skin under his left eye. He would move his hand to shift it, but he's too comfortable, too bone sated and liquid soft. He can't do anything but sigh into Logan's side and snuggle in closer. 

"We're going to have to have a shower at some point, Jamie." Logan whispers the words as if they're special, not ordinary words he uses all the time. But James supposes that like this yes, yes they are. Yes they are special words. 

"Don't wan'to move," James didn't realise how sleepy soft his words are, they match Logan's in a way he didn't realise words could match other words. Does that make sense? Probably not, James can't find it in himself to care. 

He lifts his other hand to stroke at Logan's stomach, the flat expanse of abs, and the hard -sharp- jut of bare hip bone. Logan shudders under him, the smile James give into the darkness is unequal parts possessive glee, apologetic and unabashed. He can't help himself from doing it again, though, just to see if he can drag a gasp from Logan's lips. 

He can. 

It's more gratifying than he would have thought. 

They stay like this for a long time, so long James begins to drift off, despite his valiant attempts at preserving the moment, at trying to hold onto the moment, to hang on with everything he has. Logan seems to understand, because when he jostles James into wary wakefulness, his hands are worshipful, his hands are gentle in a way he isn't usually. James thinks he understands how new James is at this. The same way James understands how new Logan is at this, and he is suddenly so very grateful. 

When Logan has him bundled up in a robe, and edging quietly in the darkness of the apartment, they share with what seems at times like everyone on the planet, mindful of it's other occupants, sleeping occupants who most assuredly do not want to encounter any scantily clad people. They close the door to the bathroom quietly, the lock clicking into place seems louder than it normally does, and the lights overly bright. When he's guided into the shower James lets the water run over him, trusting Logan to clean him up, wash the mess off of both their stomachs. He closes his eyes, sighing when Logan presses lips to his throat, sucking slightly. 

Before he realises they're back in bed, snug under the duvet, legs intertwined. Logan curled on his side in front of him, James pressed into his back and his lips pressed into Logan's hair. He breathes deep, sleep coming once more. He smiles softly to himself when Logan drags his arm over his waist, his grin unequal parts, unapologetic, shy and possessive.

_END_


	19. Tactile Study rated M

So, um, warning; porn.

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pillow Talk

_Tactile Study (rated M)_

The skin just below Logan's ribs is soft and smooth and whenever James presses his fingers against it Logan shudders, a beautiful full bodied shake that makes his eyes roll and his breath hitch. Whenever James presses his lips against it Logan groans and rocks in closer. Logan is surprising sensitive; he likes when James drags his hands all over and when he presses lips into the hollow of his throat.

The back of Logan's knee are a nice place to touch, it's soft and smooth there too, and ticklish.

...

"We're at the beach, Logan," it's said in a put upon tone, Carlos doesn't look too impressed, but then again not even Gustavo's impressed or surprised that Logan is lounging under the sun umbrella, head pillowed by James' shirt and ignoring everyone. "We're at the beach, Logan, get off your ass."

Logan presses a finger to his chin, "Let me think about that," there's a pause and beside him James huffs out a laugh, Logan taps the finger against his chin; once, twice and a third time, "no."

Carlos raises an eyebrow at him, he waits and drums his fingers on his hips. Logan gets up shoves at him and sprints off toward the sea, tearing his shirt off as he goes. Carlos barks out a laugh and takes off after him. James just smiles to himself and shakes his head and digs his fingers into the sand. When they come back their fingers are wrinkled and Logan tastes like seawater wherever James puts his lips. James hasn't seen Kendall in ages; he imagines he's off with Jo somewhere, hiding in an alcove probably.

Logan rests his head on James' shoulder, and James hides his smile behind his drink, he fiddles with the tab, flicking his thumb nail against it and leaning into the pressure at his side. Camille is talking to Logan, her legs stretched out before her, her foot bumps against Logan and he smiles to himself before grabbing it and placing it in his lap. Camille snorts and flings some sand up at him. Some of it hits James and he grumbles good-naturedly, no heat and all humour. Kelly sits with her book forgotten, she's making a sand castle with Gustavo, and James allows himself a smile before trundling over to help as he goes he drops a kiss to Logan's wet hair, ruffling it.

Before long its lunch and Mrs Knight and Katie have returned, with Kendall and Jo in tow, with newspaper wrappers of fish and chips. Gustavo pokes at his and Kelly shakes her head at him. James likes this, it feels like family, and home, and when he looks at Logan like belonging and slow, quiet nights.

After a while he drags Logan up, tugging on his hand and leading him away, far from the noise and the people. He tugs until everyone else is a dot in the distance, until all they can hear is the lapping of the sea, until all they can smell is salt and air.

James eventually sits on the sand, feeling the grains slip between his fingers and get until his nails, how it sticks to the underside of his thighs. Logan sits with him, pressed up against his side a line of heat from James' shoulder to his knees, James leans into him and sighs, looking out to sea. The weather isn't the best per say, it's cloudy and grey for Los Angeles. The sun is shining though, but it's dim and waning, it's still bright and wonderful despite this. James looks up at it, shielding his eyes at thinks, however briefly, that the day is wonderful because of it.

Logan presses his mouth to his shoulder and rolls James onto his back, he drags his kisses from James' shoulder to his mouth, but that's fleeting, he leaves open mouthed kisses along his jaw and trails to James' throat where he sucks, and laps and bites along James' collar bone.

It's heady and James clutches at him, baring his throat and tugging his fingers through wet hair and pulling until he can get at Logan's mouth. He drags Logan's bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and kissing and swallowing the groan that Logan lets loose, it's a long and wet thing. When Logan swings his leg over James' hips to straddle him James swipes the palms of his hands along the flexing length of him, wondering at how muscular Logan actually is, how his abs clench and flex under his fingers and how the muscles in his back ripple when he presses his nails into the flesh above his Hawaiian print swimming trunks. His hands continue downward almost without his consent, spurred on when Logan kisses lower at his chest, and fingers that followed by tongue swipe at his nipples.

When Logan grinds down, hard and desperate James clutches (clutching seems all that he's good for at the moment, it's all he can think to do, when he's not gasping, shallow and wet or kissing) at whatever he can, his fingers grip the backs of Logan's knees and James is at a loss when Logan groans; loud and broken and grinds down hard and firmer and dirty against him. So he does it again, grinding up when Logan's hips stutter.

"Shit, Jamie," Logan's voice is husky and James wants more of it.

"Come on, Logan, come on."

That has Logan gasping and dragging James' palm up to his mouth so he can bite at its heel. "Jamie." It's the tone that does it, Logan has the best voice, James thinks, the best voice especially when he sounds like this, so high strung and deep.

Logan grinds down against him and licks at his neck, at that James clenches at the backs of Logan's knees and bucks up. He fumbles for Logan's mouth, when he shakes apart it comes as a shock. He gasps for a while, humming whilst Logan kisses along his shoulders and bites just under his armpit.

"Weirdo," James breathes out, but Logan laughs at him. He gathers himself enough to snake a hand under the waistband of Logan's trunks and stroke at his cock. When Logan moans into James' neck and he can feel the vibrations down to his toes. He grips tighter and when Logan comes into hot and into James' hand. He rolls off onto his back, still gasping up at the grey sky.

They lay like this for a while Logan on his back beside James, he twines their fingers together, only grimacing for a second at the mess James is still holding. A while later Logan tugs them up and into the water, the sea is calm and when they're waist deep he pulls off his trunks and scrubs James down with it. James just sighs and drops his head to Logan's shoulder not minding the water that he ends up drinking. Logan washes himself in clean efficient strokes.

"I don't think that's hygienic." James says, enjoying in the feel of his lips against Logan's skin, his full bodied shudder.

"And you've got a better idea?" The words whispered against the shell of James' ear.

"Nope," James pops the p. Logan chuckles. "Hey, what are we going to tell the others?"

"I wasn't planning on telling them anything; unless our sex life is something you feel we should discus with our nearest and dearest?"

James shoves at him for this, moves his hands from their resting place at Logan's hips to squeeze at his bare ass. "We wouldn't want to traumatise them."

Logan hums, "that would be tragic." Then he slips his trunks back on, and James silently mourns the loss, before walking them back to the sand. He lies down and James waits for him to get comfortable before laying on him, resting his head on Logan's chest, whilst Logan runs reverent fingers through James' hair.

"When did you want to head back?" Logan asks, pressing the words into James' hair. James shrugs, tells him to be quiet and not for a while yet.

_END_

Author's Note:

I need to finish off Ellie's one, but I got distracted. (Only a tiny bit sorry)


End file.
